The Whitecoat and the Second String #1

This entry is part 1 of 6 in the series The Whitecoat and the Second String

Chapter the first; In Which Libations Lead to Boasting.

In the city of New York, I would assume there’s around four or five dozen folks who go out and, with the help of innate gifts, great skill, or a bit of weird science, try and make life in the Big Apple just a bit better under an assumed identity.

Writ large, the press calls us prelates; more and more often, the public just calls us heroes (whether they add ‘super’ or not depends largely on if they have a stick up their derriere.), and among ourselves? Well…

“Have you hear about the new weekender working the Bronx?” Asked Barn Owl as he passed me a bottle of beer. Like me and everyone else in the room, he was in full crime fighting gear; his golden bird mask with sharp, hooked beak that hid his face, a pair of wings constructed of whirring clockwork of some kind with ultra-lite ceramic feathers, and taloned gloves that same color of the mask. At night, it was bizarre and unnerving, In the full light in the room though, he looked… well, like a man in a bird mask.

Despite looking like a lost extra … Continue reading

The Whitecoat: Networked #1

This entry is part 1 of 5 in the series The Whitecoat: Networked

Chapter the First; In Which our Hero Relates a Perplexing Event.

[This story takes place between Descendants Special #2 and Descendants #23]

He stood like an Adonis of prelate-dom on atop his vanquished foe, resplendent in his red, padded shirt and darker breeches, encircled by a gold belt covered with compartments and pouches. His yellow cape billowed dramatically in the wind, showing off the infinity symbol emblazoned upon it in blue. The same symbol, contained within a yellow triangle sat proudly between his rippling pectorals. His dark, shoulder length hair was tied back in a ponytail that also caught the wind just perfectly.

On the ground below him, an unconscious man; who before being soundly dispatched had gone by the name Death Claw (obviously for the outsized, electricity conducting claw he’d grafted to his left arm) lay senseless. He’d been beaten before he’d even been aware that a high speed flying punch was coming his way.

But he wasn’t the focus of attention. Well, honestly, he had been; seeing as how he’d held the mayor hostage and all; but that was before the Champion of the Boroughs, the Defender of the Metropolis, New York’s Prelate: John Harding, AKA; Infinity had … Continue reading

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